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Vaknin, Sam, 1961-

"The Suffering of Being Kafka"

Then, she let it drop, an alien appendage. She
removed her hat, clinging to it awkwardly, straightened the wrinkles in
her dress and gazed at her flat patent shoes uncomfortably. She knocked
on the outer screen rigidly and the sounds reverberated in the house
like distant thunder.
The door was opened so instantly that we recoiled. My aunt stared at
the middle-aged woman and returned her barely audible "hello". It was
as though her body shrunk. She undulated with her baggage eagerly. The
older woman's lips were smiling at my aunt, but her eyes remained on
guard.
She told me to look for Uzi in the animal corner, close to the
mountain, among the cowsheds and cages. She needs to talk to my aunt in
private, she ventured unnecessarily.
She softly shut the door behind me and I stood, dazed by the scorching
sun. Barefoot and well-tanned kids, clad in shorts and T-shirts,
surrounded and studied me and I reciprocated. I froze and they did not
get closer. We formed two groups and measured one another.
A bird-like girl broke the spell: "Are you a new Out Kid?"
I didn't know what was an Out Kid. I told her that I was Uzi's cousin
and that I am searching for him.
She gave a toothy smile, crossed the invisible barrier and held my
trembling hand: "Let's go".


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